


Under The Light of Morning Suns

by NuriaSchnee



Series: Under Series [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Depression, First Time, Fluff, Honeymoon, Jealousy, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Viktor's past, Wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:39:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuriaSchnee/pseuds/NuriaSchnee
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor have gotten their happy ending, although they had very divergent perspectives of the horrible months they lived.This is Viktor’s.Under The Waterfall of Shoothing Stars' sequel.





	1. I don't see no red lights, just a wild ride (you're my getaway)

I always liked colors.

Colors like the tones of the sky at sunset, the fallen leaves’ greens and ochres when the autumn arrives or the vibrant blues of the sea in a sunny day.

Colors like the ethereal ice touched by moonlight, the thick brown of my dog’s fur or the cover of my favorite book.

Colors like the ones on the eyes of my beloved ones or the reddish trace of a kiss on a lover’s lips.

I really loved colors.

I was surrendered, embraced, touched by them all the time, but at some point in my existence I realized I couldn’t feel them anymore.

All I could do was glance at them and be aware of the emptiness filling my veins and lungs, the fault on my soul, my damned colorblindness.

The first time I had that kind of sensation was in the morning of one of my training days, ordinary and not particularly special.

I was putting on my skates and when I saw the golden blades shine under the rink lights I stared at them, confused, not feeling as delighted at their color as usual. I just had a growing uneasiness sensation in my chest.

Maybe I was tired. It had to be that.

Perhaps the pressure I had that season was draining me.

If that was the reason, I couldn’t let it carry on.

I wasn’t like my mates, the vast majority born in rich families or, at least, with a degree that would give them a job and a salary after their days as skaters were over. Maybe some of them would become coaches.

The thing was that when they retire there was something for them to hold onto, economically or not, but that was not my case.

All I had was the faith in me and my abilities, an uncertain time until I couldn’t bear it anymore and how cleverly I played my chances meanwhile.

I had made a space for myself in the skating world the past seasons, people suddenly valuing me as a possible notable figure in a near future if I carried on like that.

I knew I could be greater. I was going to be greater.

That’s why I couldn’t let myself waver.

Even if I didn’t know what the future had prepared, I was aware that if I didn’t do the best of me it wouldn’t be future at all.

I loved the ice, but with the years it torn your body and after your retirement you’d be spending on and taking care of your health for the rest of your life. It was a fact.

And I wasn’t thinking in retiring soon, but I had to have that present anyhow.

The point of all was that I had to take the right choices. And I wasn’t stupid.

Aside of my skating, my image was a powerful weapon that could help to maintain myself if I took good advantage of it.

Nevertheless, that wasn’t something I had realized for myself. Since I made my debut as a junior, people emphasized too in how I looked, so I started to take cognizance of the importance it really had.

So in the world eyes I became Viktor Nikiforov, the pale slender figure-skating-boy with deep blue eyes and ethereal silver hair, always composed but with a powerful sex appeal, who, besides, had a blossoming talent and might become one of the most significant skaters in history.

My persona had been constructed without my intervention, but I took it anyway, perfecting and making use of it.

Everything was going well for me, in that regard at least.

It wasn’t easy although. I had to train really hard and my success entailed loneliness and some hostility from few of my rink mates. But it was fine. I could live with that.

That’s what I always said to myself.

I just was tired.

“Vitya?”

My ears rang with the sound of my name sweetly pronounced by a known voice. I raised my head to find a couple of deep brown eyes staring at me.

“Oh, Vanya.” I uttered, a little bewildered at the sudden interruption of my thoughts. “Hi.”

The boy furrowed slightly, glancing down to me with some concern. From that perspective he looked even taller. He could’ve seemed intimidating in that position if weren’t because I knew him well enough to be impossible for me to think that.

Iván was a sweetheart, always, without a single exception.

“Hi.” he mumbled.

He sat down on the bench with me even when he had his skates already on. I felt his eyes on me while I was tying the laces of mine.

“You don’t look good.”

I was expecting that.

In countless occasions I had seen him comforting some of our mates, giving advice and selfless company. That’s why I always thought Iván had a sixth sense regarding people’s feelings. Maybe that had to do with why he was studying psychology at college.

Somehow, for years, he managed to be a great skater, be about to get his degree and be liked by everybody. I admired that, to be honest. I dedicated all my time to skating and I felt like my days hadn’t enough hours. I really didn’t know how he organized his time and how, with all that, made space to care about the others.

“I’m just a little worn because of training.” at the very moment I had said that I felt bad. He probably was constantly drained by his schedule and he had to listen me complain about mine.

“No wonder you are. I’m starting to think you’re living here.”

“Almost.”

“Well, that’s why you’re about to be a legend of figure skating. Nobody trains as hard as you here.”

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling like that conversation was going straight to its end. There wasn’t anything to say more than that. That’s what was happening to me, and I didn’t want to give it a lot of thought. I needed to be focused in practice.

“Maybe a break wouldn’t do harm, you know. Even if it’s a little one.” Iván said when I stood up.

“I can’t take a break. Winter Olympics are in a few months.”

I was going to be an Olympic for the first time in my life, and I was well aware of the huge chance that that meant for me.

“It’s August now, for goodness sake. You have six months left still.”

“Time passes quickly.” I breathed out, taking off the hair band I had on my wrist to tie my hair in a ponytail. “Six months are nothing.”

Iván sighed softly; even so, I heard it anyway. Maybe I was sounding repellent or pretentious, but I didn’t care if anybody saw it the way it was. I didn’t need anybody to understand me. Probably that was one of the reasons why the other skaters repelled me, and once more I didn’t care. Iván and Georgi were the only ones I was on good terms with, perhaps because they were pretty devoted to their skating careers too and felt something similar.

“It’s just that I’m sure it’ll be a turning point in my career if I reach high in the podium, and I don’t want to let this chance pass. So I can’t allow myself to fool around.”

Iván cocked his head, dropping his gaze to the floor, clearly understanding but still pressing his lips in disagreement. Soon after, he raised his eyes to me once again with determination clearly written on them.

“Do you think you can do so just for one night?”

I adjusted my gloves, thinking about his words.

“If it’s just one… Sure. Why?”

He got up to, approaching me with a soft smile drawn in his lips. Iván fixed his eyes directly to mine. The closeness let me examine better the color of his irises, discovering for the first time there was some green around his pupils.

“You have something to do tonight?” he asked.

When had Iván turned so handsome? I certainly didn’t know. But he was and I couldn’t believe I was speechless because of it.

He raised a brow, waiting for me to answer.

“No.” I hurried to say, as clear as I could make my voice sound.

Iván smiled, a hint of slyness in the curve of his lips, just after my response.

“Will you let me take you out tonight?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the sun set and the pitch black sky was a sign of the end of the day, we were in a street near the rink, in front of a building that seemed some kind of club, the promise of a long night above our heads.

Iván helped me to get out of his bike, taking care that I wouldn't fall while looking at the building. When my feet touched the floor, I took a moment to take my helmet off before fixing my eyes on the neon light shaped like an amphora heading the door. Then, I turned to Iván.

“What’s this place?” I asked.

“It’s called Dionysus Tavern. I come very often. I got bored of the typical clubs everyone usually goes, so I started to come here. It's something different, but I've always found it really amusing.” he admitted while putting the helmet on the bike’s compartment.

After securing the vehicle, he enlaced his arm with mine, giving me a genuine grin.

“Let’s go!”

I nodded, letting him guide me to the building, because I was still enchanted with the colorful neon light.

Iván pushed the door, holding it open for me, rhythmic music escaping from the inside. Once I crossed the threshold I found myself in a surprisingly spacious place, full of persons dancing ones totally glued to the others, couples invading most of the white marble floor. Above all the heads I could see two bars at the bottom, separated by a platform where a young boy was in charge of the mixer. It was a pretty normal place, at first sight at least, except by the music and the ceiling, which was painted whole like a sky with cotton-like clouds.

I jumped at the feeling of a hand grabbing my hip, just relaxing when I saw it was Iván’s, but getting nervous once more for the same reason.

“It’s run by two brothers. Their grandparents came here from Greece when the dictatorship started there in 1967. ” he said to my ear, threading our way through the crowd.

“How do you know that?”

“One of the barmen talks a lot.” Iván laughed, seeming to remember something in particular.

He was right. When we get to reach the left bar and the man recognized him, he started to soliloquize, and it passed to minutes before he asked us what we wanted to drink.

“Two of Aphrodite.” Iván ordered.

I raised a brow, silently asking him for an explanation.

“Everything here is named after a Greek god.” he snickered.

The barman prepared the drinks the opposite of how he chatted. In less than a minute we had a couple of cups with rosy and bubbling content in front of us.

He picked up one of them and raised it in my direction, a playful expression on his features.

“Cheers!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Watch out!”

Before I collided with my face against my apartment’s door Iván caught me by the arm, holding me steady. I backed myself against the wall, laughing hysterically at the thought of what could’ve happened because of how weak my knees and that the alcohol had given me such clumsiness. Right then that seemed really funny.

Alarmed, Iván let my arm go to take his hand to my mouth, hushing my loud guffaw. Suddenly, because of this movement, he was close to my face, and I could notice the green in his irises, how the nerves were drawn in them. In that moment his flustered expression looked even more amusing to my eyes than my drunkenness, making me giggle inside his palm.

He waited for me to stop before freeing me.

“Maybe I’ve drank a little too much.” I whispered, barely, due to my rough throat.

“Yes, maybe.” Iván had a subtle tone of enjoyment too.

I huffed, smiling, taking a few bangs of hair out of my face.

“Oh, man. Yakov is going to be mad with me tomorrow.”

“Probably, but don’t worry. I’ll take the guilt.”

“He’s not going to believe it. You’re the rink’s good boy.”

Iván blinked slowly, furrowing a little, as if trying to find something more in my words. The quietness broke when my knees decided to fail me again. I would have fallen to the floor if weren’t because Iván had an awesome reflexes once more.

“Thanks.” I sniggered, shutting my lids at the sudden dizzy feeling I was having.

“Are you okay?”

The vertigo disappeared as fast as it had come, leaving me with a bitter sensation inside, the realization that I didn’t want the night to end. I didn’t want to sense yet the cold sheets of my bed, the silence around me, the real world and the headache. Iván had accomplished his goal, making me forget the tension and the obligations for a while. Maybe it was true that that very morning I said I couldn’t allow myself to fool around, but there, under the faint lights of the corridor, drunk and feeling cold, I wanted to forget I had uttered that words just a little bit more.

I opened my eyes, Iván’s visage at inches from me.

Intoxication or realization; any of them –or both– could be the reason why my perception of the man before me had changed all of the sudden. He still looked like the kind, smiley and sweet Iván I always had known, but now I was seeing how he had grown up, how he had become a man with good heart and pretty eyes.

My hands gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer. Iván fixed his pupils in mine, wide-eyed, flushing furiously at the realization of what I was about to do.

And I kissed him. I poisoned his mouth with the venom my lips were covered with, planting a seed of corruption on his good-natured being, imposing darkness inside the light.

What I didn’t know at that very moment was how I was going to regret that simple kiss, what it would trigger in the near future and almost break in the years to come the only thing I would’ve died for.

Iván drowned in my kiss, setting our fatal fate definitely.

I slept with him that night, unconscious of the consequences that that was going to carry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We fell into a routine, sort of.

The morning after we first had sex I woke up with hangover and the memory of my forwardness. Thank goodness neither of us wanted to do as if nothing had happened. He admitted he liked me, and I liked him somehow too, so eventually, without any other verbalization about our new reality, we ended up being some kind of friends with benefits.

Our relation was basically the same, except for the fact that we started to spend more time together. Sometimes we went out at night, going to clubs or the cinema, but, no matter what, we always ended up in my apartment.

After two months it felt like a habit.

“Don’t you get bored of having the hair so long?” he asked while playing with my mane, messy after our previous activities.

“It’s kind of exasperating when I have to untangle it, but after that it’s nice. Besides, I think I may be like Sanson; if I cut it I’ll lose my strength.” I joked.

Iván laughed.

“I don’t think so.”

Out of the blue, a ringing sound invaded the silence of my restroom. Iván made me wake up, since I was lying in the top of him, and stood up from the sofa, going for his mobile to the coffee table. He picked it up, smiling right away at the sound of the voice at the other side of the line.

He just talked with affirmations, negations and short sentences. After a few minutes, he hung up, coming back to the sofa.

“My brother.” he explained at seeing my curious eyes.

Iván had told me a little about his life since we started our thing, whatever it was. He had a stepbrother. Iván had said more than once that he was the most important person in his life, that he could do without any other person except his brother.

He told me too that his parents got divorced when he was a little kid and that his mother married a man who was his stepbrother father.

The thing was that Iván had a deep love for his brother; you could tell just by seeing how his gaze lighted up when he talked about him. Because he talked a lot about his sibling; however, he never revealed too much, not even his name.

As more time I spent with Iván more I realized he was a really introverted person, even if he seemed open and extroverted all the time.

What I knew, or at least I suspected it, was that Iván’s love for his brother had some sort of idealization.

I was very curious about the issue, but if Iván was uncomfortable talking about his more private life I didn’t want to push.

“He’s organizing a party for my birthday at our house and he’s really going too far with it.” he huffed, smiling either way.

“Right!” I gasped. “It’s this weekend!”

“Yep. Do you want to come?”

It took me a few seconds to process his question. He was inviting me to his birthday party, at his house, with his brother present?

“To your party?” I had to be sure that that was what he meant.

Iván nodded, smiling softly.

“When is it?”

“Saturday, around ten.”

I bit my lower lip. I really wanted to attend to his party, not because I was curious, but because I had the feeling I owed him that at least. Somewhat I had opened myself, my house, shared times very intimate with him, and he was allowing me to do the same, even if it was just for a night.

But there was a problem.

“I have practice in the afternoon.” I muttered. “I don’t know when I’m going to be out.”

Iván hummed, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, but clearly understanding the situation.

“Well, don’t worry. If you’re out soon you can come if you’re feeling to. I’ll give you the direction.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, faking a smile.

After that some coolness settled between us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Against all odds I got out sooner of my Saturday practice, and even had time to make myself presentable. Soon I was catching the bus, Iván’s present on my lap, and thinking about how his house would look like.

It wasn’t far from the rink, but the bus line went around and I ended up arriving late.

And what I saw when I found his house was far from how I had imagined it was going to be. At the eyes of a person that lived in a forty square meters apartment —which was my case— Iván’s house seemed a palace. I should’ve imagined that Iván’s family was well-off; he was so modest that it was hard to do so. But he lived in a house with huge windows and a yard, and for its modern appearance it probably had been constructed not long ago. Just by suspecting how much it could cost I started to feel dizzy and embarrassed to think he had such a mansion and he had seen the mouse hole I lived in.

The music was audible from the outside, and I could see the people dancing inside through the main window. There were persons in the yard too, cups in their hands, chatting while sitting or laying on the grass.

I’ve never been at the university, neither at its parties, but I was sure that Iván’s party resembled more one of those than a birthday one.

Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come. It was possible that I didn’t know anybody, and Iván’s attention would be claimed by the attendees —the huge amount of them— all night. I didn’t want to be glued to his side or make him feel like I was cohabited because I was alone around the house. I knew him enough to be certain that he would try to make me feel better even in his birthday if he suspected I wasn’t comfortable.

But I had to do it, and stay. He asked me to come, and seemed really thrilled for me to attend, even if he did it like it wasn’t a big deal. Iván was my friend, and if he wanted me there, that’s where I would be.

After taking a deep breath I headed to the door, already open and persons going inside and outside constantly. Once in the house I searched for Iván to give him his present. I hadn’t luck, so I decided to stay in one of the corners of the kitchen, drinking from a cup I had served myself and which I refilled again and again, hoping to bump into Iván before the day was over.

“Uh. Hey. Excuse me,” a voice uttered, a little hesitating, taking me out of my thoughts. “you okay?”

I raised my eyes, finding a slender tall man in front of me, black long hair tied in a ponytail resting on his shoulder, deep blue irises on me, thin lips pressed in worry.  

My heart stopped for a moment and a lump formed on my throat.

He was the most handsome person I had seen up to then. He had smooth and fine features, a small snub nose and round rosy cheeks that invited to be caressed.

I got caught under the powerful color of his look, feeling little and overwhelmed.

“I’ve been seeing you here alone for a whole hour.” he explained, blushing a bit at my silence.

“Oh, uhm, yes, I’m fine.” I babbled.

He sighed, dropping his wonderful eyes to the floor, just to raise them right away.

“Do you mind if I stay here with you? I need to escape a little from the crowd.”

“Sure.”

“Great.”

He served a cup for himself and put some drink in mine too. I swallowed all the content in two sips, nervous at the presence of the other man, not knowing where the night was going.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had fallen in love; or rather, I thought so.

After two hours talking non-stop with the man, whose name was Fabi, I was sure that I was living love at first sight. That mixed with how much I had drank during our conversation carried to the both of us getting out of the house, taking his car and going to my apartment.

I wasn’t thinking straight. The only things I had in mind were how lovely his name sounded on my voice and how much I wanted him to love me until the break of dawn.

At the light of the day and sobered up I still felt the same for Fabi, the passion of the previous hours vivid and the crush I had on him persistent after the lust died down. I didn’t regret sleeping with Fabi, but now I could rationalize again I felt guilty for leaving Iván’s party without giving him the present and wish him happy birthday.

Moreover, after my night with Fabi I couldn’t continue having sex with Iván. I felt something for Fabi, and I wanted to know him better. That why I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with another person meanwhile, even if we ended up not being anything.

Fabi and I exchanged our phone numbers after spending the day together, which facilitated the increasing amount of dates per week he started to have after that.

Even so the things were getting serious I didn’t have the guts to tell Iván.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After some weeks avoiding Iván as subtly as I could the things started to break. He got mad at me a few times just for declining to meet after our training, making me struggle more about telling him.

At first I felt really bad for it, being fully aware that what I was doing wasn’t quite right, but I wanted to find a way to solve the issue without breaking our friendship or creating tension. And his awful behavior wasn’t helping.

Meanwhile, I started a real relationship with Fabi. He knew I was seeing somebody before we met, and that I hadn’t totally solved things with them. Fabi was an understanding person; he didn’t care at all, luckily.

And the days passed, and it seemed that, as things with Fabi got better, my relation with Iván worsened.

One day after training I was picking my things up, and when I closed the door of the locker I found Iván backed against the one next to mine.

“Vanya.” I muttered after jumping, startled.

I feared already what could happen now that there weren’t people around to hear us and his rage could be rougher. Everybody had left an hour ago, at least.

“What are you waiting for?” Iván spouted.

I stayed quiet, facing his death stare, the sweet boy nowhere to be found. That was no good.

“I’m not…”

“Don’t dare to say another fucking excuse.” he approached me, cornering me against the locker, threatening. “I’m really tired of it.”

Seeing Iván so changed made me want to cry. I didn’t know if it was my fault or he was like this for real, but either way hurt.

Out of the blue he hit the surface of the locker, putting his hands on it, trapping me between them. I closed my eyes, scared, feeling my eyes start to burn, tears about to appear.

He had no right to treat me like that even if he was mad.

“I’m boring, right, Vitya? I’m not interesting or good enough for you. You think that I’m a fool that’s easy to manipulate, that is going to please you whenever and however you want to. You don’t care. All this was just to get laid.”

“That’s not true. I don’t…”

“Don’t you fucking lie!” he yelled and smashed the door again.

The tears started to fall from my shut eyes, pressing my lips to repress the sobs.

“Just admit that’s how it is, dammit. Stop messing with me.”

“You’re wrong. You’re my friend. I…”

“I am _your friend_ now.” He laughed, kind of sarcastically, fury overflowing. “How fucked up.”

I felt him backing away, but I didn’t feel brave enough to open my eyes yet.

“I don’t know what I was expecting, to be honest. You don’t give a shit about nobody. I’m stupid for thinking I was different.”

His tone sounded so painful, so broken, that I had to look at him. I fucked all up. I had ruined our friendship because I hadn’t been —I wasn’t— brave enough to be sincere.

“You’re wrong. I care about you.”

“ _Gibberish_.”

“It’s the truth.”

He moved closer, being now at inches from my face.

“I hope you choke on _your truth_.”

Said this he left, leaving me with a heavy feeling of guilt and self-hate inside my chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I came to the conclusion that we couldn’t go on like that. I met with Iván that very weekend on a coffee, not daring to be alone with him again, and told him that I didn’t want to carry on with our thing, that I hadn’t known how to tell him and I apologized for being evasive. He was mad, and I understood. He left straight away after my explanation, and I was sad that we ended up like that, but I felt relieved too. Now I could focus on my relationship with Fabi.

Fabi appeared in my apartment a few days after my talk with Iván, materialization of the consequences that my kiss with Iván triggered.

He had come to break up with me. Fabi was a mess, and clearly trying to end up with that quickly. He barely looked at me.

He had a suitcase with him, red eyes and the hurt drawn on his features.

Every one of his words felt like a stab in the center of my heart, every truth even more hurtful than the previous one.

Fabi and Iván were siblings, and they had a fight because of me.

He didn’t told me a lot, just that a lot of hidden resentments and jealousy had come up after they had realized that the person Iván was sleeping with a while ago was me and that now I was with Fabi, that they couldn’t continue living together after some things they had said.

When Fabi left I didn’t even cry, the echo of some of his words hammering in my ears, maintaining me too occupied to sob.

Iván was _in love with me_.

He had admitted it between the yelling of the fight, according to Fabi.

Everything fitted into place. Every one of Iván’s reactions and moods had sense now.

I had been so blind all the time. I couldn’t imagine how much hurt Iván was in that moment.

Because of me he had lost the most important person in his life. I felt like a monster.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ _You fucking bastard_!”

Iván came to me in strides, grabbing me by the shirt, shaking me. I didn’t move; I didn’t say anything. I knew that when we saw each other for the first time after all the mess he was going to be more than ballistic. If he wanted to vent all his rage on me I was going to let him.

I barely caught what he was saying. All I could notice was the way he hated me inside, but how his fingers had no intention to do any harm, the way his tears rolled by his cheeks, the rage and hurt in his yelling.

I didn’t know how much time we had been like that, but when he let me go and walked away I started to cry after days of holding it back.

I was a monster.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night I locked myself in the bathroom of my apartment, scissors tightly gripped on my right hand, glaring at my reflection in the mirror.

I wished not to be myself, just for a while, so I hadn’t to feel my soul bleeding, my being shattering, see the chaos I had spread around me.

I didn’t want to be that boy, who broke everything that touched, that was just good when he was far from the others hearts.

There was a lot of me I wanted to bury and leave behind after what I had done, and I couldn’t think of anything better than that.

Before I could back out I tied my hair in a lazy ponytail, cutting above it with the scissors.

The thud sound my hair made when collided against the floor froze my blood. The sight of my mane short triggered my sobbing, but I didn’t stopped cutting, fixing the mess of locks.

I felt so strange with the final result. It looked good; however, I wasn’t satisfied. I thought I was going to feel better, someone new. But I was still broken and hurting, still myself.

Everything seemed to fade out, no light to guide me, no hope to cling on to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But life went on.

Iván moved to Moscow and become a pair skater. Fabi had completely disappeared, probably searching for a new beginning somewhere. I won the gold at the Olympiads and my career took off.

Life definitely went on, but colorless.

When my self-hate died down with the months I only felt colors on the rink, skating, and I fully dedicated myself to it.

If I could’ve spent all the time in it I would’ve done so, but Yakov didn’t let me. I knew he was worried about me; I wasn’t blaming him at all. 

But being out of the ice was a real pain, the colorblindness hitting me the very moment I stepped out of it, numbness increasing day by day.

I had used to it eventually. It got normal for me to wake up in the mornings tired and apathetic, and come back home at night and fill the lack of sounds of my apartment with silent hate for so much quietness. Just skating made me feel enough adrenaline to be sure that my heart was still beating on my chest. The ice was the only place where I was fully happy.

My life became skating, Makkachin, eat and sleep.

Iván and I came across in a competition two years after all that had happened between us. I thought he was going to ignore me, but he approached me with a polite smile, asking me if I would like to talk.

I took the change to apologize properly. He accepted it, told me that Fabi was still gone, and changed the subject very quickly. We basically talked about frivolous things about our lives.

It felt nice to close a circle that had been opened for so long, but I was sorry still for destroying a part of his life for being thoughtless.

And the years passed, one by one, a gold medal after another, competitions and training, training and competitions, less lovers in my bed and more books in my shelves.

But life went on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifth consecutive Grand Prix won, a gold medal resting on my chest under my jacket and emptiness; that’s what I had.

I was walking towards the Sochi’s rink entrance to leave and get myself ready for the banquet of that night, the young Yuri Plisetsky by my side, refusing to listen to my advices.

Yakov was waiting for us there, and at the very moment we got closer to him, he started to scold Yuri about his manners.

Then I had the feeling of somebody’s eyes on my nape, so I turned to find out to who they belonged to.

Behind me there was Yuuri Katsuki. I had known about him for a while before the final of that Grand Prix. I had seen some videos of his routines, and he had something special, as even if the music lacked you could still sense the music through his body. But in the competition of that day his routine was a bit of a mess and he came sixth. That kind of things happened sometimes.

Moreover, I knew he was a fan of mine. He had added traces of my style in his, what was enough for me to know he admired me in some way.

So I put on a smile, forgetting about my own issues for a moment, suspecting what he wanted but seeing his hesitation.

“Do you want a photo?” I said kindly. “Sure.”

When he turned around and walked away without saying anything I got a little shocked. He probably wasn’t in the mood for photos or interviews at all, not after coming sixth. I felt bad and a tactless. I thought that maybe in the banquet we would have an opportunity to chat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I couldn’t believe I was at the banquet of the Grand Prix final.

Everything had been as boring and formal as usual, talking with sponsors and other remarkable people of the figure skating world nowadays.

And then, out of the blue, I heard Yuri yelling.

“You’ve lost already, pig!”

Music invaded the hall. I turned, finding Yuri dancing with Yuuri Katsuki in what seemed a dance battle.

I had seen a lot of things during my career in official events, but not that. So, unavoidably, I left the conversation I was having, took my phone out of my pocket and started to cheer the boys and take photos.

Yuuri suddenly stopped dancing when our gazes met, staying still.

He came closer to me, feeling like a ray of sunlight, giving me a genuine smile and grabbing my hand, his brown eyes shining vividly.

“Dance with me, Viktor!” he exclaimed, dragging me to the dancefloor without giving me time to answer.

“Okay.” I babbled.

Dance with Yuuri had been the funniest and most refreshing thing I had done in a while. He was so forward and a really good dancer. We first played the fool, changing gradually to something more normal.

Probably it was because the dance was making me warm up, but I started to feel heated every time Yuuri placed a hand on my hip or cupped my face.

I never realized how cute that boy was. He had a bright and soft his smile, and the sweetness of his voice saying my name was wonderful.

And as the dance continued, I suspected that he had drunk more champagne than he should, but it couldn’t have been much; he was far from staggering or babbling. 

I felt disappointed when he left me and went to Chris.

And if the banquet seemed crazy by then, it became wilder.

Chris and Yuuri practically undressed and started pole dancing. I didn’t have time to think about why the hell was a pole in the hall because I was enchanted by the sight.

Maybe Yuuri was cute, but he was sexy too, more than Chris even.

Soon I had to unbutton my jacket, feeling my body starting to get sweaty.

I got mesmerized with his dance, not even taking photos, occupied in remembering how his body twisted and slid around the pole, the way his determination was drawn in his expression, how beautiful he looked.

My heart soared when his eyes found me, smiled again and left the pole, walking straight to where I was. But Chris got in his way, stopping Yuuri to tell him something. Yuuri talked back to him, Chris handing him some of his clothes.

That annoyed me inexplicably.

But after Yuuri put his shirt and glasses on —and, for some reason, the tie on his head— he came back to me, about to say something, being interrupted by an angry Yuri.

“Oi, pig! We’re not done!” Yuri yelled, irritated.

Yuuri just smiled openly, giggling a little at Yuri’s words.

“Right, right!” he exclaimed happily. “Let’s do it! But…”

Surprising me for the umpteenth time that night, Yuuri opened his arms in my direction, catching me between them, pressing his body against mine, head on my chest. I froze, too stunned to say or do something.

“Viktor,” he started to utter. “after this season ends, my family runs a hot spring resort, so please come.”

Yuuri let me go and raised his head, his wide begging eyes fixing on me, the blush on cheeks increasing, sweat falling all over his face, picture of the most wonderful chaotic beauty.

“If I win this dance-off you’ll become my coach, right?” he said with the most hopeful expression I had ever seen, right away jumping to catch me on a hug again. “Be my coach, Viktor!”

And for the first time in years I saw colors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was in love with Yuuri Katsuki.

After the banquet I took him to his room and told him to contact me by any of my social networks, hoping desperately for him to do so. He said he was going to, and I believed in his word. When I returned to my room I spent all the night glancing at the dark ceiling, remembering his smile, his hands on my face or hips, his voice exclaiming my name, everything that he had done that night that had my system going crazy. I didn’t sleep a little bit.

I was afraid too, overwhelmed by my own feelings. It wasn’t the first time I found myself thinking I had fallen in love with somebody at a party, and that ended with every person involved hurt because of me.

So the following weeks after the final I was reticent to fully accept I needed Yuuri to send me a message because I felt something for him. I opted to deceiving myself, repeating on my head that I had a good time with him and I wanted to maintain the contact, and maybe be friends.

Just after it had passed a whole month I started to get sad and confused. Yuuri hadn’t contacted me and he wasn’t posting anything on his accounts.

He said he would contact me. Had he regretted saying so? Or it was that I was attaching more importance to what had happened at the banquet than Yuuri?

Maybe that was it.

My life had been dull for years and lately I had been lacking of inspiration to skate, the only thing that made me wake up in the mornings. Everything made little sense to me at that point. And then Yuuri came like a hurricane and made me feel alive again for a few hours. I couldn’t let that sensation go so easily.

In the end I ended up accepting I had fallen in love, with all the fears that such realization carried. I didn’t know if I was going to do something about it since Yuuri didn’t seem to have the intention to talk to me at all.

I just hoped to find him in the next competitions and have the chance to approach him.

But that didn’t happen.

He hadn’t been in any of them, and still disappeared. I read somewhere that he hadn’t retired but that he hadn’t pronounced himself about what he was going to do the next season.

As the time passed I decided to swallow my feelings, resign and let them die down, returning to the same point I was before the banquet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

April was here, cold and vapid.

Days off were a torture, spent on my house trying to distract myself from the daily emptiness.

I was on the sofa with Makka, eyes closed, sleepy even when I had woken up two hours ago. My head hurt. I had drunk too much the night before while trying to stand the horrible movie’s plot I was seeing.

The sound my phone started to do at the constant arrival of notifications felt like a hammer hitting my skull. I groaned, picking it up from the floor, lowering the volume and entering on my accounts to see what was all that stir among my followers.

At the very moment I saw what everybody was sharing and tagging me on I had to sit up straight.

It was a video, titled ‘ _[Katsuki Yuuri] Tried to Skate Viktor’s FS Program [Stay Close to Me]_ ’.

My heartbeats got out of control. I think I never had clicked on something so fast in my life.

Watching Yuuri skate my program almost perfectly triggered something inside of me, an idea coming to my mind.

He hadn’t contacted me in all those months, but it was possible that that was a call for me.

I was certain about what I was going to do. It was risky, sudden, and maybe crazy, but I had to do it.

I couldn’t stand my life as how it was now anymore. I needed to search for the colors I had felt when Yuuri smiled at me, reach them and hope everything was going to be alright.

After making the decision to become Yuuri’s coach I solved some things that very day to take a flight to Japan as soon as possible and stay there without worrying of having loose ends on Saint Petersburg.

Plucking up the courage I left my apartment with a suitcase —which I was going to take with me in case that everything I had packed and sent to the ink arrived late— and Makkachin by my side, as always. As expected Yakov wanted to kill me, but even if he was a little angry about my behavior he took me to the airport to say goodbye.

During the flight I tried not to think much, but I couldn’t. My stomach was full of butterflies flattering, nerves tightening my throat, my hands a little sweaty.

I was going to see him after months, and I was expecting him to be happy to see me too, but everything was possible. He skated my program. That meant he had been looking after me even if he hadn’t contacted me; so it was a good sing, right?

The hours that took me to arrive to his hometown, Hasetsu, felt eternal. After getting out of the train station I took a taxi, giving the driver a paper with the address written in it at realizing he didn’t understand English.

My nervousness didn’t let me to appreciate the way the city looked like during the drive, just focused in what I was going to say when I saw Yuuri.

In a blink of an eye I was before the inn.

Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting exactly. When Yuuri talked about a resort I thought of something huge and opulent, but that building seemed very traditional. Maybe it was on the inside. I knew that Yuuri had been studying in Detroit for five years, so his family had to have money; there was no way they could’ve fund that if that wasn’t like that.

Mouth dry and heart pounding in my chest, I walked to the door, going inside. Surprisingly, it was just as the outside. I was welcomed by a chubby woman with a great bright smile. There was no doubt she was Yuuri’s mother; they resembled a lot. She gave me a warm feeling right away, just like her son. I didn’t expect to meet his mother so soon, but I felt thrilled either way.

I babbled a little, trying to make her understand that I didn’t speak Japanese, which I think I did. It seemed like she called for somebody, and seconds after another woman appeared at the entrance, wearing the same uniform as Yuuri’s mother, wearing a head band on his dyed blond hair.

She welcomed me too, speaking an accented but perfect English, and told me that currently they were cleaning the rooms, but that meanwhile they prepared one for me I could take a bath in the hot spring. I accepted, not mentioning the reason of my presence there yet. I preferred to wait and talk with Yuuri first.

The hot springs felt amazing after travelling for so many hours, the snowflakes falling above my head and disappearing when they touched the water. It looked like paradise.

Not much after I had entered the water I heard fuss inside, right after the door that gave to the hot spring opening with a thud.

At the very moment I saw him crossing it clumsily and with a startled expression I knew for sure my life was about to change.

Yuuri said my name, and the colors came back to never leave again.


	2. I hate that I can't say your name (without feeling like I'm part of the blame)

_A few months later_

When I woke up that morning I was confused.

I sat in the bed and stood with my eyes half shut for a brief moment, watching through my eyelashes the sun caressing the white sheets covering my legs. My chest was heavy, my lungs felt dry and my whole body like a rock. Blinking, I felt the chilling sensation that I had the best dream of my life and I had forgotten it. Then, a pair of brown eyes and a shy smile came to my mind.

Yuuri.

Kind of scared that everything was a dream for real I looked around. I was in my bedroom, in Saint Petersburg, and he wasn’t by my side. It took me half second to see the bag he used to go to the rink on the floor, next to the closet, and suddenly I felt relieved like never before.

Right. It happened. It really happened.

After appearing in the inn and turning Yuuri’s coach my life took a turn, a big turn. I got more than I ever dared to dream and, oh my god, I never thought I would be so happy. Yuuri was now the center of my life and I wasn’t ashamed of it. I had the luck to find him and find in him a student, a friend, a lover… He was the man I wanted to love until my last heartbeat. And, of course, I was dying to marry him. But I still had to wait.

The next step after getting engaged was moving in together. I knew it was the only thing we could do to combine his practices with me as his coach and my own training for my comeback as a competitor. When Yuuri accepted coming to Saint Petersburg to live together my heart almost exploded.

But the truth was that our happiness had its own flaws too.

Being coach, student and fiancé all at the same time was harder than I thought. I was doing my best in being all at once and not blur the lines between these facets. Also I was trying to look the better I could because I didn’t want Yuuri to worry.

I got out of the bed right away after hearing noises coming from the kitchen. I put on a pair of pants and walked out of the room.

Yuuri was so beautiful right there in the middle of the kitchen that my heart soared.

He was touched by the light of the day and it made his thick black hair shine like a black diamond. He looked really peaceful while cooking, with his glasses starting to slip down his nose and little smile in his lips. Yuuri was radiating calm right into my heart just by looking like that, just by being there. He was my medicine, the only effective cure for me. I was no longer a broken man. Since Yuuri was in my life that feelings had disappeared.

I walked to him, hugged him from behind and when he turned a little I pressed my lips on his in a good morning kiss. Then I noticed his natural scent, lighting a spark inside me, taking me almost automatically to bite his ear and kiss the skin of his neck. Yuuri laughed nervously.

“Vitya!” he squeaked trying to let go, but I pressed him harder against me.

“It’s my revenge for not waking me up” I pouted. “You know I hate to do it alone.”

Feeling playful all of the sudden I bitted his neck, knowing that would kill him.

“Okay! _I am sorry_!” Yuuri begged cutely. “But stop, please!”

I freed him, laughing, totally pleased for seeing him blush so early in the day. I sat on the table and Yuuri did too, handing me a mug of steaming coffee. I blew its surface and took a sip.

“Did you sleep well?” Yuuri asked with his eyes fixed on me.

“Yes” I said. It wasn’t fully true although.

He didn’t stop looking at me and for a moment he looked worried.

“I’m glad” he said softly.

“I’m fine” I smiled with confidence, trying to ease his concern. “You don’t have to worry.”

But he made a face anyway. I didn’t want him to feel bad for me. This was something I had chosen, for me, for him, and for the both of us. Once I was over with the season I would retire for good and dedicate myself to coaching Yuuri. But now I had to do this. It would be just some months and I knew I could do it as long as I had him by my side.

I raised my hand to his cheek, my ring shining at the sunlight, and caressed him gently.

“You’re hopeless.” I snickered.

Yuuri closed his eyes and sighed, relying on my touch. I approached to him, kissing him desperately. My chest tightened at the sour realization that we hadn’t kissed like that for days.

I pulled away a bit to look at Yuuri, and his gaze full of love increased the feeling.

“God, Yuuri… I miss you so much” shutting my lids, I rested my forehead on his.

“Soon we’ll find time for us. I’m sure” he assured me after taking a deep breath.

“I hope you’re right because if not I’ll have an attack.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I don’t.”

I was talking seriously. Knowing I would have him through all of this and after it was over was what was keeping me going.

“I need you” I professed.

Yuuri hesitated and I felt it.

“We have to go” he said barely.

“Now?”

I knew I had practice but in that very moment I would have played dumb to stay with him a little longer.

“Yes” Yuuri chuckled and kissed my forehead.

After this he stood up and I rested my trunk on the table’s surface, frustrated.

“I do not want” I pouted. “I want to stay here with you. Can I skip practice today?”

“No. You can’t. Fit your practices with mine has been hell, and since Yakov accepted to be flexible with that, we can’t throw it overboard. Besides, I have class too.”

I groaned in disappointment.

“Vitya, come on.”

Yuuri was right, but it was hard. I had a season in me still, and I wanted to compete once more before retiring, but what was the point of it all if it made me be apart from Yuuri? His practices weren’t being together exactly, and at home I usually was too tired to do nothing else but lie on the sofa and zonk out.

Suddenly I felt him behind me, pressing his body against my back slowly, and his lips approaching my ear.

“I promise to find time for us,” Yuuri put a lock of my hair behind my ear softly while he whispered “but in return you have to stand up, _Vitya_.”

The way he pronounced my name made a shiver shake my body and made me sit straight.

“That’s cruel!” I babbled, totally flushed.

Yuuri smiled fondly, looking down at me with adoration.

“I love you” he just said.

I opened my mouth in disbelief and stood up.

“No, no, no. You’re not getting away now.”

“What…?”

Before he could continue I grabbed and carried him on my shoulder, starting to walk to the bedroom.

“Vitya! No! Stop!”

I laughed. Well, I would be late for practice in the end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was just another morning. As usual Yakov had yelled at me for being late and the other few skaters that trained at those hours were practicing free of Yuri’s mood swings, since he was at school. So yes, it was just another normal and quiet morning.

After my coach’s sermon I put on my skates and slid into the ice rink. Then, as always, I lost track of time. There was nothing but me, the ice and the music playing in my head.

There was just a thing that I was able to notice inside that trance: Yuuri.

I saw him when I was in the air, in the middle of an axel. My heart would race usually at the sight of him, but this time it stopped beating for a moment.

I landed wrong, falling and colliding against the ice. However, I had no time to feel ashamed for failing a simple axel, worrying about if I had hurt myself or caring about Yakov yelling at me. I got up really fast, hoping I had seen it wrong.

But I hadn’t. There was somebody next to Yuuri.

I wasn’t breathing and my heart was now beating so fast it hurt. Inside my head a loud alarm was sounding.

The last time I saw Ivan was years ago, and I thought that maybe I would never see him again, let alone near Yuuri.

‘No. _No_. Near Yuuri no, please’ I thought. Even if it was remote, the possibility of Ivan telling Yuuri what happened between us terrified me. I hadn’t been brave enough yet to tell him about that part of my past, and I didn’t want him telling him first. I was so scared about Yuuri’s reaction. I knew he wouldn’t judge me, but what I had done made me feel like a monster for some time, and I felt a bit like that still, to be honest.

“Hi, Vitya!” Ivan waved his arm in the air, cheerfully.

A shiver shook my body at hearing his voice. I approached them as fast as I could, praying this was a nightmare. When I stopped before them, I glanced at Yuuri, checking his expression and searching in his eyes the slightest change when looking at me. But he gazed at me the same as always, a bit confused though. Then, I turned to Ivan. He was just as I remembered him. Well, that was not true. He looked just like him before I broke his heart and his life. The last time I saw him he forgave me, but there was sorrow in him still, and his smile was forced and full of sadness. Now he really seemed his teen self, young and full of hope. He seemed happy.

But that didn’t ease my nerves.

“It’s been a while!” he switched to Russian and slid, approaching me, and hugged me tightly.

My mind froze. I didn’t see that coming. I wasn’t breathing again. It was strange that after so many years, after what had happened, his hugs still felt the same. However, I felt very uncomfortable.

When he let me go my body felt weird.

“Vanya…” I said, barely, almost whispering, and regretted instantly calling him like that. “I mean, Ivan. What are you doing on here?”

“Nina is injured. I’m returning with Yakov for this season.”

I wasn’t sure my mind was functioning well enough to process that.

“What?”

That would have been a good moment to wake up.

“Great, right?” Ivan uttered happily.

Seeing him like that made me think that maybe I shouldn’t be worried about having him around here. If he had moved on, there was no point in worrying. I put on a brief smile.

“Yes” I nodded. “So, how are you?”

“Pretty well, in fact. I’m concerned for Nina, obviously, but excited to compete individually again. It has been her idea, actually, and between you and me she didn’t give me an alternative. I had to agree if I didn’t want her to hit me with a crutch.”

I remembered his partner. I had seen her once and she was tenacious for real.

“I’m glad.”

“I don’t know if I’ll remember how to skate alone. Maybe I’ll need your help.”

“Oh” he never wanted my help before. He had a too much ego when he was young. “Sure.”

“And, what about you? Your fiancé seems a nice guy.”

“I’m good. And yes, he is.”

“How lucky.”

Talking about Yuuri with Ivan was something that I wanted to avoid. Somehow it didn’t feel right.

We talked a bit more and then, when I felt too overwhelmed, I decided to end the conversation.

“Yuuri, I’m done for now. Why we don’t go to eat something?” I told Yuuri, hoping he didn’t want to continue training.

“Fine” Yuuri accepted.

“Well, then, I’ll see you Ivan” I said to him, hiding the best I could my mess of feelings.

“Yes” Ivan nodded and turned to Yuuri. “And Yuuri… It’s been a truly pleasure meeting you. I hope we can talk more another day.”

“Oh, yes” he mumbled, shy. “That would be great.”

After this I tilted my head towards the rink’s exit and grabbed Yuuri’s hand. I know that, when we started to move away, I was tugging him, but I had to get out from there.

Then, I couldn’t imagine that soon there would be something I’d hate myself more than for hurting Ivan in the past. The decision of ignoring the feeling of unease in my chest would carry consequences I would regret forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!!!!!
> 
> First of all, I'm sorry for not updating in... Five months. But my life has been a mess lately and I had to put it all in order. Well, the thing is that I've decided to take my writing more seriously and self-publish, and if this give me enough income to help me become independent that would be great. I'm considering traducing my next novels into English too, but I don't know if my level is enough for publishing it (if there's a native around here I would be glad to hear opinions).
> 
> Whatever. What I was about to say is that with this and college I'm really busy, but I won't give up writing fics. 
> 
> I had to do changes in the structure of the fic if I wanted to continue with it. Also I don't know when I'll post again (I hope sooner, really), but I know chapters will be shorter now. Maybe like this I can post more regularly. 
> 
> And if there's readers here after so much time, THANK YOU! I want to thank particularly Onai for the comments and the sweet words while I was on my break! <3 It was very heartwarming and it helped me a lot to keep in mind I had to come back to write.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the chapter! I'm on [Tumblr](nuriaschnee.tumblr.com) too by the way!
> 
> See you! <3  
> Nuria Schnee

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! I hope you liked the first chapter of the sequel!
> 
> Next one will be posted on 7/10.
> 
> For anything, I'm on [Tumblr](http://nuriaschnee.tumblr.com/) too!
> 
> Nuria Schnee, xx
> 
> UPDATE 6/10: I'm afraid there's not going to be chapter tomorrow. I've had two horrible weeks and no time to write at all. I'll try to have it for the next week and update every two weekends, as always, but I can't make promises from here and out. Moreover, I want to dedicate some of my time to my new WIP, which is lighter to write and I think I need that now. This fic requires a little bit more of effort to be written and I want to do it well so I won't force it. Sorry!


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